


I'll make it to the moon if I have to crawl

by heavvymetalqueen



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Fondue, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, awkward handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-22 09:39:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12478652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heavvymetalqueen/pseuds/heavvymetalqueen
Summary: Master Miller takes David out for fondue, like he promised.





	I'll make it to the moon if I have to crawl

**Author's Note:**

  * For [plingo_kat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/plingo_kat/gifts).



> Fill for wish #3 "Fondue date. It can be smchoopy or smutty (or both!), I just need fondue date in my life. Go wild." Sorry if I made it Sad?

The kid looks like shit.

He’s made an effort, clearly. His hair is still vaguely damp from a shower, he shaved, he’s wearing clean clothes. But his eyes are dull and ringed with black. He looks like he hasn’t slept in a week, and he probably hasn’t.

Kaz hasn’t been sleeping much either. Every time he closes his eyes, he hears that scream again.

“David,” he says, trying for his best smile.

“Master.” David tries to smile, but it’s tight, hollow.

“You ready to eat your weight in melted cheese?” he probably hasn’t been eating much, either.

“Sure.”

The restaurant is not flashy. It’s a small place, European food, kind of dim lighting, classic rock on the radio. It’s the type of restaurant Kaz likes the best in LA, reminds him of Japanese taverns, of Colombian cantinas, of the greasy Italian place within driving distance from Foxhound.

It’s also a great place to disappear for them, broken hollow men with hints of burns showing under the neck of a t-shirt, titanium fingers resting on the checkered tablecloth.

“How have you been doing?” he asks once they order. David breaks the piece of bread in his hands into tiny shreds. Doesn’t eat any of them, just piles them onto his plate.

Not well, then.

He finally shrugs. “Been better.”

“Yeah.”

He’s responsible for snuffing this young man’s smile, and he’s gonna have to live with it. At least until that revolver bullet with his name on it comes for him.

Kaz isn’t entirely sure their revenge was worth it, these days.

“It gets better. You just have to keep busy.”

“That’s not what he said.”

Kaz heard what _he_ said. His flesh hand clenches. “That’s what happens if you never leave the past behind you.”

David just nods, wiping the breadcrumbs off his plate. “I’ll be fine.”

“Have you thought of what you’re going to do?”

“Not yet. Master, can we...?”

Kaz laughs. “God, don’t call me that. We sound like a kinky couple if you call me Master in public.”

Ah, that does it. A pink flush to his cheeks, blue eyes quickly darting down. “Sorry. I’m just so used....”

“And I get it, but we’re both retired now, aren’t we? I’m not your instructor anymore. Just call me,” _Kaz, call me Kaz,_ “Ben.”

“All right. Ben.” A tiny smile. Good.

The conversation is lighter after that, and smoother once the fondue arrives, hot and steaming, the bite of the cheese relaxing them. They talk about books. David likes to read, Kaz has been lending him books since he was a recruit. He’s smart, way, way smarter than his father is. Was.

Kaz pays. It’s the least he can do.

“That was good,” says David around the cigarette he’s lighting. Kaz almost swats it out of his mouth by reflex, but he’s not his instructor anymore, is he? Let the kid smoke. At least it’s not a cigar.

“You have any plans for tonight?”

David just looks at the pale smoke lifting from his mouth, eyes blank again. “Nah.”

“Do you want to come over for a drink? I live close by.”

David chokes on smoke, coughing until his eyes water.

Whoops.

“Are...are you sure?”

“Why shouldn’t I be?”

“Don’t you have....I mean. A kid?”

Kaz smiles. “Catherine is with her mom for the New Year. I’m all on my lonesome.” And maybe for once he’d like to fall asleep without the scream echoing in his ears, without the sleeping drugs.

David inhales deeply, orange shadows glowing on his face. “Sure. Let’s go.”

Kaz’s apartment is really close. They walk in silence. David smokes three cigarettes on the way. His mouth tastes like tobacco with a hint of cheese when he presses it, hungrily, to Kaz’s the second he closes the door behind them.

“David,” he murmurs, hands on his hips.

“Master....”

He sounds so _sad_. So desperate.

Kaz kisses him back, pushes him further into the dark apartment. They stumble into the coffee table with a tumble of plastic animals onto the carpet. David shoves Kaz onto the couch, climbs on top of him, straddles his waist as he goes for his mouth again, smearing nose prints all over his aviators.

Kaz surfaces for air and takes them off. He turns on the light on the end table. It hurts a little. David squints against the sudden light. He’s flushed pink, his hair falling over his eyes.

He’s beautiful, and nothing like his father, and too young to look so broken.

Then again, Kaz was his age when he lost everything, wasn’t he?

He parts his hair with the back of his prosthetic fingers. “David,” he says low. He wants to ask if he’s sure about this, but it sounds like such a stupid thing to say.

“I’ve never seen your eyes before,” says David instead, rough fingertips brushing Kaz’s temple. “How have I never seen your eyes?”

“I’m very good at hiding them.” His flesh hand rests on David’s thigh. It’s warm and strong, reminds him not so much of his father but of V, when he climbed on him hard and needy and rode him whispering his name over and over.

Nobody has called him Kaz in so long.

“They’re beautiful,” breathes David. “They look like mother of pearl.”

Kaz laughs. Figures. Trust this damn kid to see beauty in his defective eyes, to desire his defective body.

He pulls him in, kisses him deeply, feels the strong muscle and sinew of his back, grasps that perfect round ass.

“Master,” he gasps, both hands shoved under his sweater.

Kaz feels sick, and hollow, like he’s drowning in black ink. He pushes David off. David tries to kiss him again, gives up when Kaz tilts his head away, buries his face in Kaz’s neck, his breath hot and humid.

Kaz reaches between David’s legs, feels his hard cock straining the front of his jeans. David whimpers when Kaz pops the buttons and grasps him.

He’s not as massive as his father. Who knows, maybe he can use it better than him, too.

Kaz’s vision is all gray spots and inky swirls like he hasn’t had in a long time. David looks fractured and broken, like a cup hastily put together with bad glue. He jerks him off roughly, quickly, twisting his own wrist almost painfully. His come is warm on his exposed skin, and Kaz is entirely soft by the time he's done. He wipes his hand on David’s jeans.

David slides down onto the couch, red splotches on his high cheekbones, tries to worm his way between Kaz’s legs, paws at his crotch.

“Master...let me...”

“I’m good,” croaks Kaz, resisting the urge to kick him away. He doesn’t deserve the kind of treatment he’d give to his father. He’s done nothing wrong.

David’s face falls. “Sorry,” he mutters, pushing himself up. He makes a bitter noise that’s probably supposed to be a laugh. “I just ruined everything, didn’t I.”

Kaz grips his sweater, pulls him to lie on his chest. He’s tense and hard like a fussy child until he starts touching his hair. It’s soft and clean, long enough to remind him of Venom’s, and maybe that’s why the voice that comes out of him is a voice he hasn’t used in many years.

“It’s all right. You’re good. We’re good.”

David’s hand balls up in Kaz’s sweater.

“Just rest,” says Kaz quietly. “You’re so tired, aren’t you?”

David mumbles something, already drowsy.

“David, promise me something. Seek help. Don’t bear this weight alone. Don’t...don’t end up like him. Like us. Please. You’re so much better than that.”

“Who can help....if it never happened....”

Kaz knows that struggle all too well. They can never unload their burden. They can only cling to each other as the dark waters swallow them. He reaches over his head, and shuts the light. “You’ll be okay,” he says, not knowing if he’s lying or just wishing it, like a prayer.

David slips into slumber. Kaz threads his fingers in his hair until he starts snoring lightly, then carefully slips out from under him, covers him with the throw blanket. Hopefully, he’ll get a full night of sleep.

He takes the cordless phone in the bedroom. It’s a bit late, but when he calls Nadine’s cellphone it’s Catherine that answers, her voice awake and bright.

“Hello princess,” he sighs, sinking into bed. “Enjoying grandma’s place?”

He listens to her excited recounting of her late Christmas presents, Grandma’s cat that just had kittens and can we have a kitten daddy I’ll feed it everyday, and playing board games with her cousins (they cheat) until Nadine cuts in, gently telling her that it’s time to brush her teeth.

“Are you okay, Ben?”

“I’m dealing,” he sighs.

“Do you have anybody...?”

“I’m not alone. Don’t worry. I just wanted to hear her voice. Even if I’m gonna end up with a damn kitten now, I just know it.”

“You do have a weakness for cats,” she says, and it sounds not nearly as malicious as it would have three years ago.

Kaz doesn’t sleep. He watches TV on mute until David wakes screaming in the middle of the night, and then holds him until he drifts off again. Then he makes some food for him to take home, so he won’t forget to eat, and puts it in containers David will have to bring back, so he’ll check in. Makes a few calls, people who might be able to help and people who won’t but know better. Makes coffee and fries bacon, so he’ll wake up feeling taken care of, safe for the first time in weeks if not years. Fights the nausea as the fat crackles and pops in the pan. Maybe eggs only, for a while.

The older recruits used to scare the newbies with stories of the Hellmaster and his relentless cruelty, but Kaz knows what they also said, after a couple of beers.

_Master Miller will send you to hell...but when you’re about to burn, he’ll pull you back up, even if he burns himself._

It’s high time he pulls his weight on the second half. Even if he burns himself.


End file.
